Tsunami Drills in the High Desert

my child louds
disruptive
gets removed
from the public
library every
reading hour
once a month
hides in a storage
closet active
shooter drill his
teacher with ten
special-needs kids
my son cannot quiet
cranks at the vacuum
and lights too bright
too crowded he tells
me how their bodies
have to stack like Jenga
for the tsunami I cry
at the kitchen table
when he calls it
the best part of his
day we share for
keeps and in the time
it took the noodles
to boil another illogical
prayer was reloaded
to keep our guns safe
keep our anger healthy
enough it burns action
to ash while we dare
to sleep the next day
my son asks to get
dressed for school
in his orange
life vest tells me
you cannot hear the
water coming your
safe until the wave
pulls back until the
wave reloads

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